Miss Murder
by strawberryfinn
Summary: JONAS. Julie’s a teenage serial killer. She’s been taught that emotions do not matter. Now she’s on her third assignment. Kill Nicholas Lucas of the hot new teen band Jonas. Not a big deal, right? But wait… She never planned on falling in love.


**MISS MURDER**

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**SUMMARY**:  
Julie's a teenage girl.  
She's 15 years old.  
Nothing special.  
_You would think_.  
But what if there's more to the story?  
Like there always is.  
She also happen to be a _**teenage serial killer.**_  
She's been training at **Crater Academy** since she was three.  
She's been taught that emotions do not matter.

**Love does not matter.**  
Feelings are incomprehensible and ungraspable subjects.  
**Don't** bother with them.  
So she's killed.  
Two times thus far.  
Innocent civilians, but nothing big.  
It was her job.  
Now she's on her third assignment.  
**Kill Nicholas Lucas of the new teen band JONAS**.  
Not a big deal, right?  
But wait…  
She never planned on falling in love.

**RATING**:  
PG-13  
For violent scenes and perhaps bad language

**GENRE**:  
Drama/Romance/Humor/Action/Violence/Suspense

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**CHAPTER ONE:  
SORRY, I SWALLOWED THE KEYS TO MY HEART**

_5:00 A.M. – Orange County, California – Marriott Hotel_

It's 5:00 A.M. I should know. I don't even bother looking at the digital clock on the bedside table.

5:00 A.M. I've been waking up at exactly this time for exactly twelve years, four months, and sixteen days.

_It's routine_, the Master says. _It's routine._

**5. Routine is good for you.**

That's Rule Number Five. That's what we've always learned. That's what _I've_ always learned.

Gently pulling myself out of bed, I glance at the covers. Good. They're perfect. Never been slept in, you might say.

No one would notice. Only I would. And besides, the maid will be coming in later to destroy the evidence.

If there's someone looking for me.

_5:04 A.M. – Orange County, California – Marriott Hotel_

I've finished. Taking a shower, washing my face, applying makeup. Finished.

I've learned how to take care of it quickly.

Makeup used to take a long time, but I know what to do now. I wish I didn't have to wear it. But it's part of blending in.

**2. Blending in is very important.**

That's Rule Number Two. That's what the Master said. And the Master knows all. He said, specifically to me, that I need it. I'm a fifteen-year-old girl. If I were just like any other one, makeup would be very important.

And I need to pretend to be the same as everybody else.

_5:11 A.M. – Orange County, California – Marriott Hotel_

Checking out of hotels always makes me nervous. I don't know why. I should be used to it by now. And usually nobody notices.

The bellboy grins at me with a very lopsided, almost love-sick way. He has a face that looks like craters has hit it before—well, for the common person, he has a lot of pimples.

Not that I would know. I've never been in love. Emotion isn't part of my duty. That's what the Master says.

I smile at him. Blend in. Fit in. Be _normal_.

That's ironic.

The elevator dings and I walk out, my purse in my arm and my backpack straps on my shoulders. It's time.

I walk up to the front desk and smile politely. "Jenna Reynolds, checking out."

Jenna Reynolds is not my real name.

**17. Never use your real name.**

That's Rule Number Seventeen. You want my real name? I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.

You can call me Agent Finnaeus [Pronunciation: Fyn-Ahe-Us].

The man at the desk smiles. He looks rather uncomfortable in his black suit. Sweat everywhere. The boys at the Academy would be horrified. They've learned to wear any type of clothing without showing discomfort. It's part of our Training.

"Ok, miss," he says, his eyes trying to hide his emotions. It never works. I can read him like fingerprints.

"Thank you," I tell him as he pulls out a slip of paper. I sign it, making sure the Fingerprints are in place. My fingerprints are hidden by a pair of fake ones.

**1. Never leave tracks of where you were.**

That's Rule Number One. That's very important. That's the most important rule there is.

I sign the paper and grin at him like any normal teenager. Flick my layered hair. Press my lip-glossed lips together and play with my earrings.

The man looks at me and wishes me a good day. I'm off.

There's a taxi outside. I get in. It's time to work.

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Reviews are always appreciated.


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